


Prison Blues

by TheFlirtMeister



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Body Horror, Developing Friendships, Gen, Prison, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlirtMeister/pseuds/TheFlirtMeister
Summary: “No! Never. I l-loved my Morty.” Rick says, and then corrects himself. “I-I love my Morty.”“Huh.” The Morty says. “I killed my Ricks. All of them.”





	Prison Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soapyconnor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Prison Blues](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271062) by [AlR316](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlR316/pseuds/AlR316)



> My first Rick and Morty fanfic! Written especially for Kelsey, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> This isn't canon compliant (what is Rick and Morty canon) and I changed Morty's eye injury up a little.

Rick wakes up in a grey bricked room and groans. He's laying on the floor, his entire body aching, like he's just taken a sledgehammer to the gut. He can feel dried blood on his face, itchy, uncomfortable. He slowly sits upright, every part of his body screaming at him to stop, and just lay down again.

When he looks down at himself, he's dressed in grey clothing, the same slate grey that matches the bricks. His fingernails are filthy, and so are his toenails. He's not wearing any shoes. They've taken all his tools off him, every space portal gun, repair kit, even his wallet from Earth. He's been internally examined too, he can feel it.

The room seems to be a prison cell. Rick works out its measurements without moving, 6ft by 7ft. There's a small cot behind him to sleep on, and Rick shuffles himself backwards to lean against it. It creaks dangerously when he does so, but seems to hold. He picks at the dried blood on his face, and then eats it. In front of him, there's a door, with a hatch at the bottom. For food, Rick assumes. Or a chamber pot, there's nowhere to piss. Rick's stomach gurgles. He can't remember the last time he ate-

Oh, but he can. Breakfast with Morty before the mission. The details are fuzzy, Rick's head is hurting, but he remembers pancakes, and syrup, and Morty flicking blueberries into his open mouth. The memory seems to be sunny and shiny, like it's a scene from a movie.

What had happened?

Rick distracts himself by looking at the room. The tiles are old, crumbling. Not crumbling enough to break out mind you. Not that Rick was planning to. Not yet, at least. Someone, or several someone's, have scratched the name Rick over and over into the tiles. Rick wants to add his own name there. Prove that he was here.

To the right of Rick, there's a window with bars on it. There's no light coming from it, the only light source seems to be a flickering light bulb above Rick's head. Rick staggers to his feet, clumsy at the best of times, but especially now. Standing, the top of his head just reaches the window ledge. He jumps, once, twice, in order to peer out of it. He sees nothing, apart from the night sky. No space ships though. Or stars. Just blackness.

The hatch suddenly is forced open, and someone pushes a bowl through it, Rick stops jumping and rushes towards it, pressing his mouth up against the door.

“Hello?! Hello!” He calls out, desperate, “Is anybody there?!”

Silence.

Rick drops to the floor instead, trying to see if the hatch will open from this side. It doesn't. Still, Rick tries to peer through it anyway, calling through.

“Hello! Somebody h-help me!”

The moment the words leave his mouth he realises it's useless. Why would he be helped? The people outside trapped him here in the first place. He's stuck.

Rick looks down at the bowl that was pushed through. It looks like gruel, but as he keeps staring at it, an eyeball floats to the surface, and then is swallowed up again. Rick grimaces, and then softens. He should be glad he's getting food at all, and the eyeball will give him extra protein. It's a delicious and nutritious meal all in one!

Rick picks up the bowl and carries it to the cot, where he sits down carefully. There's no spoon or anything, so Rick tilts the bowl to his mouth and greedily drinks down the lumpy liquid. It _has_ been a long time since he ate anything.

He thinks back to pancakes with Morty. They'd been preparing for something, getting lots of food in before a big event. Rick wishes he could remember what it was, but it's like it's been cut out of his memories.

The eyeball knocks against Rick's front teeth. Rick looks at it. The eyeball looks back at him. Rick wonders if it's a Rick or a Morty eyeball, and how it was extracted from the skull. Then he quickly eats it, before he has any more dark thoughts.

He falls asleep on the cot that night, curled up into a ball. It's cold, and lonely, but Rick has spent all of his adult life feeling that way. He wonders when someone will come and tell him what's going on. He hopes they'll do it soon.

He dreams of gunfire, and death, and loss.

When Rick wakes up, there's another bowl of soup sitting by the hatch. This time it has a tentacle in it, that flops about when Rick prods it. He has to eat it quickly, and for the next hour, can feel it wriggling about in his belly.

There isn't much to do. Rick alternates between sitting on the cot and sitting on the bed, lest he become too docile and lazy. He looks out of the window every hour, but the view doesn't change. He even sets about carving his name into the wall, but his nails can't make a proper mark.

“I g-guess I am just a-a Doofus Rick.” He says to the wall. It's not the wall's fault. It's his own.

The wall doesn't reply to him in any way. Rick runs his hand along it, feeling dust gather on his palm. He imagines stroking a cat, or Morty's hair. He liked to do that to Morty, they'd watch television and Rick would stroke Morty's hair. And Morty would call him an old softy, and they'd be happy together.

Rick wishes his Morty were here.

Somewhere around afternoon time, he hears screaming. He jumps, hitting his head against the wall from where he'd been sitting on the cot. Rick goes completely still, scared, and then starts to make out the screams.

“Morty?” He says out loud, because that's definitely a voice that all Rick's are familiar with. But is it his Morty?

“I'LL KILL YOU ALL YOU SONS OF BITCHES! I'LL GRIND YOU UP INTO LITTLE PIECES YOU GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCKERS”

That's not Rick's Morty. He clambers off the cot and hurries to the door, pressing his ear against it. The Morty is howling fit to burst, and there's the occasional thump of him landing a hit.

“Would you s-shut up?!” A Rick says, and the Morty screams obscenities in Ziegfeld at him. “S- Shut up you f-fucker!”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF” The Morty screams, and Rick cringes at the foul language. His own Morty had never sworn, and Rick had liked that about him.

“Oh for fuck's sake.” says another Rick. “Someone shove a cock in his mouth and shut him up.”

“I'LL KILL YOU.” The Morty threatens, but the Rick's laugh.

“Yeah yeah. We'll k-knock out all your teeth first, so y-you can't bite our cocks off.”

“Or fuck t-that eye hole of his.”

Rick almost gags on that in his prison cell. He can't believe what the Rick's are suggesting, the rape and torture of a Morty. He's heard rumours, and he's heard the other Rick's talking, but he never thought any of the Rick's actually went through with it.

A door is unlocked, and the Morty seems to be thrown inside, still screaming bloody murder. The prison door is then quickly pulled shut and locked, and the guards taunt the Morty through the door.

“Just you wait lil Morty!”

“We'll come for y-you tonight! See what you've g-got for us!”

The Morty howls at them in response, awful words that make Rick want to cover his ears. The Rick's only laugh however, and walk away, and Rick can hear their footsteps echoing through the corridor as they leave.

Something heavy is thrown against the other side of Rick's wall. He jumps, biting through his lip so hard he draws blood. Pain rushes through him, and he licks at the wound, tasting metal.

“Uh.” He says, moving slowly over to the wall. “Hello?”

There's no reply. Rick tries again louder.

“Hello?!”

“The fuck do you want?” The Morty replies. Rick's heart skips a beat a little, it's his first interaction with another person in days.

“Uh, I'm-a Rick! Hi!”

“Bullshit.” The Morty replies. “You're no Rick.”

Rick's face falls. “W-Whadda you mean?”

“You don't sound like a Rick. You sound pathetic.”

Rick looks down at his feet. “Uh, well I am! A Rick J19ζ7, I mean. And uh, I guess I'm pathetic too.”

The Morty doesn't reply for a very long time. Rick figures that they don't want to speak to someone like him, and starts to move towards the cot.

“Why are you here?” The Morty asks.

Rick shrugs, and then remembers the Morty can't see him. “I d-d-d-don't know.”

“What do you mean, you don't know? This is one of the most dangerous prisons in the world.”

Rick's mouth falls open in shock. “I'm in the-the Citadel prison?!”

“No shit Ricklock.” The Morty drawls, “You obviously did something bad.”

“I-” Rick says, and then sits down on the floor to comprehend this all. “I lost my-my Morty.”

“You killed your Morty?” There's something in the Morty's voice that Rick is scared of.

“No! Never. I l-loved my Morty.” Rick says, and then corrects himself. “I-I _love_ my Morty.”

“Huh.” The Morty says. “I killed my Ricks. All of them.”

“Oh,” Rick says, “Were t-they mean?”

“Yes.”

“I'm sorry.” Rick tells him, and the Morty grunts.

“I'm not.”

Rick rests his forehead against the cool tiles of the wall. He wonders what the Morty is doing on the other side. He wonders if he's hurt.

“Why don't you remember why you're here?” The Morty asks.

“I don't know. The last thing I-I remember is eating breakfast in the morning with m-my Morty.” Rick replies. “After that, I w-wake up here.”

“Odd.” The Morty says, and doesn't speak again.

Rick doesn't speak either. He doesn't want to annoy the other Morty, especially as he seems to be having a tiring and stressful day. Instead, he crosses the room to the window, and peers outside.

There is nothing interesting to report. Rick is starting to worry there never will be.

In the evening, the hatch opens, and a bowl of broth is pushed through silently. Rick watches it be scooted across the floor, and listens out to see if the other Morty gets the same treatment. All he hears however, are the footsteps walking back the way they came, ignoring the Morty completely.

Rick picks it up from the floor and sniffs the bowl. It smells of chicken, with a human finger floating at the top.

Rick carries it over to the Morty wall, and places it down on the floor. The wall looks solid, but Rick wouldn't count on it. The cells adjoin, sure, but the builders wouldn't expect Rick's to collaborate with one another. Something's got to give.

In less than five minutes, Rick has managed to wiggle one of the bricks free. He places it carefully on the floor next to him, trying not to be loud, and keeps going. One by one, the bricks ease out of their positions on the wall, and Rick can see into the Morty's cell.

“Morty.” He whispers, “I have b-broth.”

A face appears in front of Rick, and Rick gives a small shriek, almost toppling backwards. It's a Morty, but unlike any Morty he's seen. This Morty has blood all over it's face, and a black eye patch over its right eye.

“What the fuck?” The Morty says, staring at Rick with his one eye. “You broke through?”

“Yeah!” Rick bends down to the floor and picks up the broth. “Here, for-for you.”

He places it on the brick ledge he's made. The Morty looks at it.

“Is that a human finger?”

“Yeah.” Rick says, and they both look at it.

“Gross.” The Morty says, and Rick looks at him hopefully.

“Do you w-w-w-want it?”

“Might as well.” The Morty takes the bowl and drinks it down quickly. He places the bowl back onto the ledge, and then spits out the finger. “You don't seem like a Rick.”

“I know.” Rick touches his hair. “I just like this hair- hairstyle though-”

“No.” The Morty interrupts. “You're kind.”

“Oh.” Rick says, feeling his heart flutter. “Thank you!”

The Morty waves a hand, and then looks at Rick curiously. “Do you want to escape?”

“Yes.” Rick says, without even thinking.

“Do you want to escape with me?” The Morty asks, pointing to himself.

Rick doesn't think he has a choice.

By the time morning rolls around, Rick is tired, and ready to escape. The two of them planned all night, in low whispers, and Rick is beginning to like this Morty. He might even go as far as to call them friends. He wonders what Morty thinks of him.

“They're going to come for me.” Morty says, speaking about it almost lazily. He's talking about the Rick's who are going to come and rape him, and it disgusts Rick. He wants to climb into Morty's cell and give him a hug, promise it will be alright. “But we'll be ready.”

Rick likes how Morty calls them 'we'. It makes him feel a part of something. He's never really felt a part of something before, not even with his own Morty. They just hung out, and went on silly adventures. Rick still can't remember why his Morty vanished.

“You w-won't leave me behind?” Rick asks.

“Of course not.” Morty says, and continues sharpening the edge of the bowl.

It doesn't take long for the other Rick's to arrive, they're wet with eagerness. They don't even stop to give Rick his breakfast, they just start excitedly unlocking Morty's door, belching to each other. Rick watches from his cell, at Morty standing poised, the bowl in his hand.

“Good luck.” He whispers. Morty holds up his hand to silence him, but Rick doesn't take offence.

“Gooooood Morning Morty!” A Rick announces as he flings the door open, “Ready to see how wide we can get your as-”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. Morty throws the bowl at him, and it connects directly with his neck, slicing straight through. Morty leaps forward before the other Rick has even had a chance to realise his partner is dead, grabbing the bowl and starting to bash his head in with it.

Rick watches for a second, and then closes his eyes. He can heard the sick squelch of a man getting his head beaten in, and the soft gurgling of a man bleeding from his carotid artery.

When the noises stop, Rick reopens his eyes. Morty is covered in blood, head to toe, and he's breathing fast. He's holding both of the Rick's guns, inspecting them quietly. Rick coughs quietly.

“Um-” He says, and Morty looks up at him.

“I'm coming.” He promises, and Rick finds he doesn't doubt him.

It's easy to unlock the door to Rick's prison cell. It feels weird being a free man, even if Rick was only there for a couple of days. As the two of them walk down the corridor, Rick keeps looking down at Morty. He looks the same as a normal human Morty, apart from the fact that he's wearing an eyepatch, and covered in blood.

“What hap- happened to your eye?” Rick says.

“A Rick took it.” Morty replies, “Can you shoot?”

“Uh.” Rick says, but then Morty is shaking his head.

“No time.” He says, as a gang of Rick's round the corner, and opens fire with his two guns. Rick ducks behind a nearby pillar, feeling like a coward, and then notices a fire extinguisher attached to the wall.

“Hello.” Rick says.

“Hello.” The fire extinguisher replies. It squawks when Rick rips it from the wall, and screams when Rick uses to beat in the head of an approaching Rick.

“Use the foam!” Morty yells, and Rick pulls down the nozzle to spray a Rick in the face. “Well done!”

“Thank you!” Rick says happily, and takes down a Rick with tentacles. “Eat f-f-f-foam!”

“We need to work on your battle cries.” Morty says, and shoots a Rick at point blank range. Blood splatters all over his face, and he licks it away.

Rick knows they're going to run out of time. There are only two of them, and millions of Rick's, even if Morty is excellent at handling weapons, and killing people. Rick grabs hold of Morty's free arm, and starts to run towards the docking bay where they keep the spaceships.

“Where are we-” Morty starts, and then realises. “Run faster!”

“I'm trying!” Rick replies, foaming a Rick coming their way, “I've got w-weird legs.”

“Fuck your weird legs!” Morty yells, and switches their positions so that he's the one dragging Rick along.

Rick can't help it, but he laughs. He laughs because this is fun, and exciting, and he's on an adventure with a Morty. A Morty who has just spotted a spaceship with a lot of guns on.

“This way!” He shouts, and starts to hurtle himself towards it.

Hundreds of Rick's are on their tail, but Rick doesn't look back. He launches himself after Morty, and together they throw themselves into the cockpit. It's a new model, can fly thousands of miles an hour, and Morty is bouncing up and down with glee.

“Can you drive?!” Morty asks, and Rick is five steps ahead for once in his life, already flicking switches.

“Yup!” He crows, and the spaceship lifts up into the air, its jet thrusters killing the Rick's that were trying to climb on. “H-Hold on!”

Morty doesn't. Instead, he presses his face against the window, staring down at all the Rick's underneath them, clambering to get them. He sticks his tongue out at them, and Rick smiles at him fondly, before setting the thrusters to jump into the next dimension.

“We did it.” Morty says breathlessly.

“We did.” Rick says, and Morty turns to him, and then holds out his hand.

“Morty.”

Rick shakes it politely. “Rick.”

“You ready to kill some more Rick's?” Morty asks, and Rick doesn't even hesitate.

“Of c-course.” He says, and Morty's grin stretches demon like across his face.

Rick wonders if he'll regret this.

 

 

 

 


End file.
